


I'm covered in the colors - Pulled apart at the seams

by QueenHarleyQuinn



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Bruises, Choking, Dom/sub Undertones, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Spanking, it's like REALLY light bdsm, or maybe it's not and I just am desensitized lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:31:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7785052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenHarleyQuinn/pseuds/QueenHarleyQuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The first time Lothar had ever bruised Khadgar, it was unintentional. Lothar hadn’t anticipated the effect it would have on him. How could he expect to be attracted to that? He hated to admit it, but it was beautiful watching that white morning skin get clouded by stormy purple and fade into sunset yellow."</p><p>OR</p><p>How Lothar accidentally discovered a bruise kink by punching Khadgar in the face</p><p>(Title - Colors by Halsey)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm covered in the colors - Pulled apart at the seams

**Author's Note:**

> I have slaved over this fic, so I'm very, very sorry if it sucks because to be honest I can't even tell any more. Any and all errors are my own. 
> 
> And if your sensitive to any kind of hitting/violence (accidental or otherwise) consider this a warning.

The first time Lothar had ever bruised Khadgar, it was unintentional. Lothar hadn’t anticipated the effect it would have on him. How could he expect to be _attracted_ to that? He hated to admit it, but it was beautiful watching that white morning skin get clouded by stormy purple and fade into sunset yellow. Maybe it was sickening and wrong, but Lothar fantasized about his tanned, rough hands leaving behind all sorts of colors on Khadgar’s body. A body that he didn’t have any right to just to make matters worse.

So, the first time he bruised Khadgar it happened on accident in the barracks. The mage wanted to spar with him, wanted to test some new spells - nothing deadly, most of them just different forms of defense. 

 _Most_ of them. Lothar should have paid more attention the mage’s wording.

There may have been a close call with a fireball that left a little bit of Lothar’s beard _searing_. As Khadgar approached him apologetically, Lothar may have punched him as a reflex.

And Lothar wasn’t a _complete_ monster. Of course he felt bad for Khadgar, he never had any intentions of actually hurting him but you can’t just set people on fire and not expect a reaction.

“Bookworm? Are you okay?”

Khadgar’s usually wide eyes were scrunched in pain. He lay on the cold floor of the barracks, cupping the side of his face where Lothar’s fist had met his cheek. Lothar crouched beside him, his face doused in water thanks to his vigilant men. A droplet ran off the bridge of his nose and fell to Khadgar’s face. Khadgar flinched.

“Khadgar?” Lothar clasped his hand around Khadgar’s wrist and pulled his hand away to reveal the blossoming red adorning his cheek. Something deep inside of him snapped, changed at seeing his handiwork on Khadgar’s skin. He felt horrible but he wanted more. “Shit.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” Khadgar said. He opened his eyes and tears spilled down the sides of his face. Lothar bit the inside of his mouth to keep from doing something stupid like gasping or moaning.

He would allow himself to do something slightly less stupid instead - he let his finger tips trail over the soon-to-be bruise. Lothar reveled in the way Khadgar’s tired panting became a quick intake of breath. In the way he licked his lips like sin.

When he felt the eyes of his men on him Lothar knew he should probably stop looming over Khadgar like he were fallen prey. And then he felt his stomach churn because he really, _really_ shouldn’t enjoy any of this. Two feelings battled inside of him - an animalistic want to pin Khadgar down, to rake nails over his chest, to leave more bruises on that pale skin and an abject _horror_ at even thinking such things about someone he wasn’t even involved with.

And yet, as he thought all of this, he stayed put. Still looming.

“Stop fussing, or what ever it is that you’re doing. I’m fine. I’m going to go back to the library.” Khadgar batted Lothar’s hands away and sat up slowly.

“Good, you should be safe there among your books.”

“I could set you on fire again, Lothar.” His eyes sparked blue for just a moment.

Lothar smirked at the challenge, “Do it. You’ll have more than just a bruise.”

And maybe it was Lothar’s disturbed hopefulness but Khadgar swallowed hard, licked his lips - like maybe, just maybe he _wanted_ it.

Later when he checked on Khadgar in the library the bruise had started shifting into a deep red shadow and Lothar couldn’t stop staring at it. Staring at the mage and his pain and his beauty.

Light, he needed help.

 

The second time Lothar bruised Khadgar it was a drunken impulse. A few months had past - some battles had been won but most had been lost. Boys, pretending to be men, died with swords in their hands and tears in their eyes. Lothar had tried to protect as many as he could but it wasn’t enough - his efforts were rarely enough.

And so he found himself drinking alone in his room. He kept a small collection of wine for when it was too agonizing to go to a tavern and drown himself in ale. He just wanted to be alone, to drink in solitude instead of being smothered in praise he didn’t deserve or pity he didn’t want. He drank straight from the bottle, wishing that it didn’t taste so fruity and sweet. He wanted something as bitter as his heart.

By the time the third bottle had been popped open, Lothar was well and truly drunk. The room spun around him as he sat on his bed thinking about Khadgar. He had spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about Khadgar. He imagined how pliant he could be, how eager and obedient. He pictured a pink face and wet lips and his hands squeezing Khadgar’s ass. And then his throat.

And then scrambled behind a privacy screen and hurled into a chamberpot. He heaved a few times more, tears running down his cheeks. He felt so depraved every time he took pleasure in thinking about hurting Khadgar.

But it wasn’t about _hurting_ the mage. It was about the domination, the control, the trust. Khadgar was so powerful and strong, as much of a warrior as anyone Lothar had ever fought with. Khadgar commanded magic like Lothar commanded his troops.

Lothar felt ridiculous, and horribly guilty, whenever he even _imagined_ that Khadgar would ever let him act on any of those fantasies. It would never happen - Lothar wasn’t worthy enough, he knew that. He was too old, too war wasted. But then sometimes Khadgar would give him that one look, that look of something that reminded him of belief or devotion. That look made him feel like he could do anything.

As his stomach settled, Lothar reached for a bottle of wine to rinse his mouth. The door creaked open mid-rinse. “Lothar?” Khadgar’s voice cut through the room like knife. Lothar heaved again. The wine was a bad idea.

Khadgar smoothed back Lothar’s hair and summoned water and cloth to wash Lothar’s face. Lothar wondered if it was the alcohol that caused Khadgar to shimmer in the dim candle light, or if he had been shimmering this whole time and Lothar had just failed to notice. And then Lothar’s entire field of vision started rocking like waves in the ocean and he realized that the wine was a really, really bad idea. 

“You missed dinner.” Khadgar said as he wiped Lothar’s mouth with the damp cloth. Lothar leaned against the wall as Khadgar tended to him. The bruise that once stretched across Khadgar’s cheek was gone - the only trace of _Lothar_ on his body was gone. Lothar’s heart stuttered at the thought.

Lothar reached out and ran his thumb over the spot. Khadgar gasped slightly at the touch, but Lothar didn’t move his hand away. He pressed down slightly before resuming his slow strokes. “Did it hurt?”

Khadgar rolled his eyes, “Of course it hurt, you struck the light out of me.”

“Sorry.” Lothar moved his hand from Khadgar’s face. He let his head rest on the cool stone behind him. Khadgar sighed as he stood, and placed the cloth and water bowl on a nearby table.

“Why weren’t you at dinner, Lothar?” Khadgar asked, looking around the warriors room, avoiding his eye.

Lothar grunted and closed his hand around another bottle of wine. He took a swig, willing it to make him drift into sleep. “You’re smart, mage. What do you think?”

Khadgar tore his gaze away from the maps on the wall. He turned back to the Commander, to the King Regent, to the man on the floor who looked so weary. Khadgar’s heart poured over, splashing his ribs and lungs in sadness. “I think you have the right to be avoidant,” he paused. “But I wish you weren’t.”

Lothar’s lips quirked upward in a quick laugh at Khadgar’s openness. Lothar took another drink from the bottle in his hand, some of the wine spilling down the sides of his mouth.

The bottle was plucked from his hand almost immediately. Khadgar placed it on the desk and then grabbed onto Lothar’s hands. “I also think you drink too much.” He started pulling, trying to haul Lothar to his feet. “And that you’re heavy.” Khadgar groaned as he helped Lothar stand. 

Lothar snorted, “Is that all?” He stumbled forward his hands finding their way to Khadgar’s hips. His forehead pressed against the mage’s. Khadgar gulped, his hands resting on Lothar’s shoulders. It was like heaven, being so close to Khadgar. It was like hell not being able to touch him in all the ways he wanted. Greed took over as Lothar squeezed, feeling past the clothes and to the skin, muscle and fat, his thumbs digging into bone. Khadgar yelped, but he did not back away. He did not protest.

Lothar released his hold, only for a moment so that Khadgar could sigh in relief, before he squeezed again. Khadgar sucked in a shaky breath before letting his head fall to Lothar’s shoulder, his mouth close to Lothar’s neck. He could feel Khadgar’s hot panting and hot tears as they fell on his skin.

He let go again, one arm snaked around Khadgar’s waist, the other rested along Khadgar’s back as Lothar stroked his hair. Khadgar l collapsed in the embrace. It could have been the imagination of a drunk man, but Lothar swore he heard Khadgar whimper at the loss of pressure from Lothar’s hands.

Lothar pulled away, stumbling and tilting. “Come back tomorrow night. Let me wreck you. Let me put you back together again.”

Khadgar gasped as he felt warm lips place soft kisses to his forehead.

Without further warning, Khadgar blinked out of the room leaving Lothar cold and drunk and alone. Lothar fell onto his bed, allowing the wine to drag him into sleep.

 

For two men whose duties were so tightly interwoven, Khadgar and Lothar hardly saw each other in the following weeks. Lothar spent even more hours training recruits while Khadgar increased his trips to and from Dalaran. Not even Taria could get them to sit and have a proper meal with her. What was almost worse was how they acted when they were around each other. They were too considerate, too polite. The fight and sarcasm that everyone in Stormwind had become accustomed to was now gone. In the barracks their behavior was alarming, in the halls of the castle it was just plain awkward.

Lothar was ashamed of overstepping his bounds, of being a drunk coward. He hated himself for taking advantage of Khadgar and in getting off on his submission. Every time he saw Khadgar, which was sporadic at best this month, it was like a punch to the gut. Every smile was a sword at his throat.

But the fate of Azeroth and The Alliance was in their hands. Innocent lives depended on them being able to work as a team. This non-fight they were having was helping no one. Or at least, that was the point Taria was trying to make to her brother.

“I don’t know what has changed between you two, Anduin, but you must think of the people that we have to protect.” She said with gentle, regal authority. 

They were in her sitting room, Taria standing in front of Lothar as he sat with his head in his hands.

He looked up at her for a moment, “Don’t you think I know that? I’m trying, Taria. He won’t…he won’t talk to me.”

She patted his shoulder, knowing how much he cared for Khadgar. It was hard _not_ to know. Anyone could see it, the fierce love and want in Lothar’s eyes every time Khadgar entered the room. Perhaps if he were a little more observant Lothar would realize that Khadgar gave him the very same look. “Have you gone to him?” She asked.

“No,” Lothar admitted reluctantly, “But he hasn’t sought me out either.”

Taria sighed, “Go talk to him, Anduin. Tell him how you feel - don’t groan at me like that. You know what you have to do.”

Lothar winced at her words - the groaning had been involuntary. It just _hurt_ how wrong everything felt. Taria meant well, and her words would ring true in any normal situation but his situation was far from normal. His feelings were…overwhelming. He wanted to want to claim Khadgar with his mouth, to bite down on soft shoulders as he fucked into him, to turn the mage into a whimpering mess. No way was he going to try to explain any of that to his sister.

But ultimately she was right - he had to try to move forward with Khadgar, clear the air so that they could actually focus on ending the war, on saving their people. Maybe they could keep some of their friendship intact but developing it into anything more was doubtful.

 

Khadgar’s room was in disarray - or at least it was from Lothar’s military view point. Lothar always kept his room neat, save for the empty wine bottles that he rolled under his bed. Khadgar seemed to be the complete opposite of neat. Parchment was pinned to twine that spanned from one wall to the other, each page containing a wealth of knowledge in the form of notes and drawings. On Khadgar’s desk there were several lit candles and a few open books. Actually, there seemed to be books on every available surface. Including Khadgar.

The mage was currently sat on his bed with a book in his lap. His thumb and his index finger played with his lower lip as he read. Light, did he even know what that simple act made Lothar want to do? The way shirt of his plainclothes revealed the delicate skin along his collar wasn’t helping either.

“Commander,” Khadgar greeted in a low, tired voice. His brown eyes flashed to Lothar and then back to the book in his lap.

“Mage,” Lothar replied, closing the door behind him.

“Something wrong?” Khadgar asked.

Lothar shook his head and stepped closer to the bed. “No more than usual, I suppose. It’s just- I came to apologize for my behavior from… you know.”

Khadgar shut the book and looked back up to Lothar. This time there was an unnamable kind of heat behind those eyes. “No, actually, I don’t know.”

It was a challenge. A taunt. One that Lothar felt uneasy about rising to. “The night I was drunk in my room and you helped me.”

“You mean the night you told me that you’d wreck me.” Khadgar shifted onto his knees and crawled toward the edge of the bed. Khadgar licked his lips obscenely - those lips that Lothar wanted to bite and sooth. Lothar’s pants suddenly felt a bit tighter. “So, Lothar, will you?”

“Will I what?” Lothar drifted toward the bed, as if lured and pulled. 

Khadgar rolled his eyes, “Are you going to wreck me?” As soon as the words left his mouth he was blushing and trying to hide an impish grin.

Lothar blinked incredulously, “You want me to?”

“Gods yes, Lothar. Use me, wreck me, ruin me. Want you to own me.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Lothar pounced, pinning Khadgar to the bed. The mage wriggled beneath him and Lothar bit down hard on his neck, not even bothering to be subtle - if people saw the mark the next day, good. Then they’d know that Khadgar was _his_.

Khadgar moaned and thrusted his hips upward to grind against Lothar in delicious friction. It felt so good but it only made them both hunger for more. Lothar shifted so he could pin Khadgar down with one arm across his chest. He snuck his free hand under the loose shirt Khadgar was wearing. Lothar’s fingers ghosted over Khadgar’s stomach and ribs until he found his nipple. He gave it rough pinch and Khadgar whimpered. Lothar leaned down and pecked those full lips, barely satiating Khadgar’s want. Khadgar craned his head up for more but Lothar leaned back and shook his head.

“Nuh-uh. I own you, remember. Gonna drive you wild, gonna make you come undone.” 

Khadgar nodded eagerly, his eyes blown wide. Lothar moved to straddle Khadgar’s waist effectively trapping him there. He tugged at the mage’s shirt and Khadgar sat up slightly to let the fabric be torn off his body.

Lothar ran his hands down the naked skin, leaning down to suck and nip at Khadgar’s chest. “So beautiful, sweetheart.” He murmured as one and trailed down to palm Khadgar through his pants. The mage keened loudly and Lothar chuckled, “So responsive.”

“Please, Lothar, Please.” Khadgar begged, his hands pulling uselessly on Lothar’s arms.

“Gotta tell me what you want, Khadgar.” Lothar leaned in and started sucking on Khadgar’s earlobe. He growled lowly, “Let me hear you.”

Khadgar let out a shaky breath. “Want you to fuck me, want you to fuck me till I see stars.”

Just _listening_ to the words that left Khadgar’s mouth was enough to set Lothar’s entire being on fire. But actually getting to act upon them, getting to live out all the things he’s imagined for months - light help him, he was going to die right then and there.

“On your knees.” Lothar ordered, climbing off of the mage. Khadgar complied eagerly, getting onto his knees and elbows. Lothar yanked down Khadgar’s trousers revealing his perfect, round ass. He smacked one cheek, creating a beautiful flush on that milky white skin. “So perfect, just for me. All for me.”

Khadgar moaned in agreement, his erection painful against his stomach. He wanted release so badly and Lothar hadn’t even really _touched_ him yet. Lothar spanked him again and Khadgar had to bite down on his own wrist to keep from shouting something arcane.

Lothar leaned down to kiss the imprint of his hand, Khadgar shivered at the feel of his lips, at the coarseness of Lothar’s beard. He could hear Lothar sucking on his fingers, getting them nice and wet. Light, it was torture but it was perfect.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

Khadgar threw an annoyed look over his shoulder, “Isn’t that the point?”

Lothar smacked him again, leaving a delicious sting. Khadgar whimpered. “You know what I mean.” Lothar said as he teased the entrance and then slid two fingers into Khadgar. The mage hissed and Lothar smirked - despite Khadgar’s annoyance, he took the two digits with some amount of ease. He’d done, at least that much, before. “Too much?”

“No - need more.”

The order only earned him another spank. Khadgar tightened around Lothar’s fingers. Lothar mouthed the stinging spot, scraping his teeth slightly, “I’m in charge, remember. You’ll get as many as I say you get.”

Slowly, torturously, Lothar thrusted the fingers in and out of Khadgar’s hole. The mage let out a litany of muffled whines and groans, spells died in the crook of his elbow. He was shaking, vibrating, his cock was straining and leaking pre-come. Every time Lothar brushed against that one spot he felt like the world was about to collapse beneath him.

“Please, fuck me. Want to feel you in me, Lothar. Please, please-“

Lothar picked up his speed with his fingers and reached to stroke Khadgar’s cock. Tears started streaming down Khadgar’s face, it was all too much and still not enough. “Please!” He shouted out, his voice raw with pleasure.

“Not gonna fuck you yet, not until you come.” With those words, Lothar started stroking him faster, adding a third finger to fuck him harder. “Come on, sweetheart, come for me.”

One last stroke sent him over the edge. Khadgar came with Lothar’s name on his lips, his seed covering his chest, the bedsheets and his trousers that hung around his knees. He felt so good, so dizzy and light headed - overwhelmed and surrounded by Lothar. Khadgar never wanted to feel any other way ever again.

Lothar turned him over, wanting to see the debauched look on his face. He pulled the trousers the rest of the way off, throwing them to a random corner of the room. Lothar smiled down at Khadgar, “You’re so fucking beautiful Khadgar, so gorgeous. It’s my pleasure to ruin you.”

Khadgar nodded lazily, a bit fatigued from his orgasm. With slow hands he tugged at Lothar’s clothes, too far gone to even form words. Lothar ruffled the mages hair and then stripped out of his clothes.

Khadgar stared in awe at Lothar’s body, at the toned muscles and overlapping scars. He had stolen looks at Lothar’s bare chest when they were in the barracks but that was nothing compared to the view he had now. Lothar’s long, hard cock displayed in all it’s glory. Khadgar needed it in him.

Lothar settled between the mages soft thighs and raked his blunt nails down Khadgar’s chest. Khadgar moaned and bucked upward in response, ready for Lothar to take him. To fill him up completely and make him whole. Khadgar gestured to the top drawer of his nightstand. Lothar leaned over and riffled through the drawer until his hand came across a small vial. Lothar rose an eyebrow - Khadgar had _definitely_ done this before. Jealousy bloomed in his chest - Lothar knew he was being a selfish bastard but that didn’t stop him from wanting to be Khadgar’s first.

“Don’t give me that look, Lothar.” Khadgar said but in all honestly, the storminess and possessiveness in Lothar’s eyes was beyond arousing. Khadgar’s dick was already half hard just from the way Lothar was staring.

Lothar leaned down until he was nose to nose with the mage. “Who else?”

Khadgar blushed, “It doesn’t matter.” Khadgar wrapped his arms around Lothar, trying to show him how badly he wanted this, how badly he wanted him. The lovers he had taken were poor substitutes for the person he really wanted. But now he was here, Lothar was with him, wanting him. That was all that mattered now.

“You’re mine now.”

Khadgar nodded, “Yours, all yours.” He gasped as Lothar’s hand reached down and squeezed his thigh hard. Light, Khadgar hoped there’d be a bruise there tomorrow. As a reminder, an echo of how the Lion of Azeroth had claimed him.

Satisfied with that answer, Lothar traveled down to Khadgar’s neck and shoulders. Lothar sucked and bit along his collar, still stroking that spot on Khadgar’s thigh. Khadgar thrusted upward impatiently, “Please, Lothar.” He begged.

Lothar placed one last kiss on the mage’s chest, just above his heart. It thudded beneath Lothar’s lips. He grabbed the vial once more and slathered the oil onto his hand. Lothar sat up to stroke himself and to admire the constellations of hickeys along Khadgar’s pale torso. Part of Lothar wanted to finish himself off and come across Khadgar’s chest, just to see another part of _him_ on Khadgar. But he had imagined fucking Khadgar far too many times to not go through with it.

Lothar entered Khadgar with a grunt. Khadgar felt so perfect around Lothar, like this is what he was made for, like he was crafted just for Lothar. Khadgar wrapped his legs around Lothar’s waist and brought him down for a bruising kiss. Lothar bit down on the swell of Khadgar’s lip, eliciting a beautiful whine. He licked the hurt away.

As Lothar set a quick pace Khadgar’s head lulled back, as if the last ounce of self control he had was drained out of him. And then Khadgar’s eyes started glowing bright blue, his lips forming spells. Panicking only slightly, Lothar leaned down to seal their mouths together once more. But he couldn’t kiss Khadgar forever, no matter how much he wanted to.

Then Lothar felt Khadgar pulling his wrist, guiding his hand to Khadgar’s neck. Lothar jerked away from the kiss, his thrusts slowing. Khadgar bucked, his brows furrowing. “Don’t stop now!” Khadgar said, pushing down on Lothar’s hand, willing Lothar to choke him.

Hesitantly, Lothar squeezed. Khadgar moaned, his eyes drifting halfway shut, lips parting slightly. All he could feel was Lothar, Lothar, Lothar. The rest of the world became cotton to him - his sight blurring, his hearing gone fuzzy. But Light it felt so good, to have all his senses reduced to feeling one person.

And Lothar, as he pounded into Khadgar, had never felt anything so raw, so crazed. Khadgar coming again, his seed on both their chests, sent Lothar over the edge into his orgasm.

So the third time Lothar bruised Khadgar it was a deliberate night of ecstasy. It was begging and pleading, kissing and biting. It was Lothar’s hand on Khadgar’s neck, declaring to the world who he belonged to.

And after Lothar had regained his breath he took ample time to marvel at Khadgar, his body more beautiful than the night sky. He cleaned both of them up - pausing to kiss and stroke every mark on Khadgar’s skin. Lothar showered the mage in love and adoration. Trying - no, _needing_ to show that this wasn’t just about sex for him. That he wanted to take care of Khadgar in every single way, if the mage would let him.

Khadgar’s smile was so bright it put the moon and the stars to shame.


End file.
